I'm going crazy in this little room. Not enough to do and not enough room. It's a 9x9x9 foot cube that I've spent the entire day in all this week. I come out when it's night, ride home in a little box, and sleep until I have to get up and do it again the next day. Bleh bleh bleh. I want OUT. I feel like I'm rotting right now. I should be out chasing after the things I really want. INstead I'm getting paid half as much as everyone else in this building to sit here and do next to nothing. Even if I had a pile of work to do it would suck. Bah. Capitalism is such slavery.
Now I know why people are sometimes so desparate to DO things when they get vacation time away from work. They work in little tiny rooms and don't see anything. Maybe if I could relate to any of my co-workers it would help- but after getting into their lives all I have is the nervous feeling that if I don't do something drastic I'll end up like them.
I'm earning more money, faster, than I ever have in my life and just as soon
as I earn it I need to spend it simply to survive to the next stopping point.
It was pretty neat to be able to withdraw three hundred bucks from my account
-twice. But the novelty wore off FAST. That was 80 hours of my life
condensed into little green bits of paper that I give to some landlord for the privilege of staying under a roof on a chunk of ground.
AND I'M NOT EVEN STAYING IN IT most of the time, god dammit. With the rate my own time is disappearing I might as well take up smoking. A week here, a week there, whatever.
I'm certain of one thing now, at least. THis is NOT what I want to do, perhaps until I'm 50 years old and want a place to sit on my ass all
day and code.
Until then, I'm doing other things. ... If only I could, anyway. It's the only life I've got.